Chapter 5: All Hell Breaks Loose

As it happened, all hell did break loose, about an hour later. Virgil had grimly maintained his post in the command center, and was glad that he had. The storm had continued to worsen, and a few minutes ago it had started to rain. Now, Kyrano had gone outside to make sure no damage was occurring to the exterior of the buildings, and to bring in the larger patio furniture. He had brought in the light stuff at the first signs of wind, but none of them had thought it would start blowing hard enough to blow away tables.

Virgil watched him out the window. The trees were whipping around harder than he had ever seen them. It must be really windy out there. He could see Kyrano making his way over to a table, cable in hand to tether it. The umbrella had already blown off and had fallen into the pool. Oh well. It probably wouldn't blow away there, and they could always dry it out later. It would be getting wet now with the rain anyway.

Kyrano reached the table just as a huge gust of wind hit, bending the trees nearly double. Kyrano, too, bent into the wind to keep from being knocked over. Unfortunately, the table didn't turn out to be so stable, and it suddenly lifted up, knocking against Kyrano. Virgil watched in horror as he was thrown into the pool. Then, to make an already-bad situation worse, the table skittered into the pool after him.

"Grandma!" Virgil screamed, forcing himself to his feet.

Grandma, to her credit, appeared immediately from the direction of the kitchen. "What is it, dear?"

"I need you to cover the command center," Virgil said through clenched teeth, on his feet now but clutching the edge of the desk for support. "Kyrano's in trouble."

"Of course. But I—I don't know how to—" She looked uncertainly at the controls.

"Ok," he said. "If someone contacts you, you push this button. To end the conversation, push it again. Ignore everything else. I'll be back as soon as I can." As he told her this, he was unceremoniously tearing the IV out of his hand, wincing at the pain both from the tape being removed, and from the sprained wrist of the hand used to do the tearing.

Grandma nodded, looking pale. "F.A.B., dear. Please be careful." She sat down and began to watch the button attentively.

Virgil didn't have time to worry about that. A glance at the pool showed that Kyrano hadn't surfaced. Either he had hit his head on the way down, or that table was on top of him. He knew how to swim, so there was no reason he shouldn't have gotten to the surface if he was ok. Virgil made it outside as fast as he could, clinging to furniture, doorways, and the walls for support. Every step reminded him how weak and injured he still was. His arm, bound as it was, didn't hurt much, but his stomach and ribs throbbed, ached, and stabbed.

As soon as he opened the door the wind hit him, nearly knocking him to the ground. He moaned in pain, pausing for a moment to let it subside. But Kyrano might not have a moment, and as soon as Virgil could breath again, he pushed away from the doorway and began to make his way to the pool, one step at a time. He reached the edge of the pool and peered in. Rain now beat down in steady sheets, making visibility difficult. Through the rain hitting the surface of the pool, though, he could make out shapes at the bottom. As he had feared, the table had landed on top of Kyrano. He could see the manservant, still conscious, fighting to free himself.

As Virgil was about to dive in, another gust of wind hit. He wasn't braced for it, and the rain had made the area around the pool slick. With a cry he fell, striking his side on the edge of the pool and slipping into the water, blacking out momentarily.

When his senses cleared he was just about to go under the surface. It felt like someone had jabbed red-hot pokers into his side. He could barely breathe, which had probably saved him from inhaling water. But if he didn't do something, and fast, Kyrano would drown. He forced himself to take a deep breath, trying to ignore the pain, then let his head slip down below the surface. It was awkward trying to dive with only one functioning arm. The fact that he was fully-clothed—albeit in a robe and pajamas—helped drag him down, and he mostly let gravity take him to Kyrano. He reached the bottom of the pool and gave the table a hard shove, sending it over just enough to let Kyrano free himself. The manservant, still conscious but obviously weakening, gave a kick and headed for the surface.

Virgil tried to follow, but couldn't find the strength. The pain in his ribs and stomach made it impossible to hold his breath any longer, and he didn't have any energy to try to overcome gravity. Well, it had been a good try. At least Kyrano was safe. Just as he began to black out, he felt strong, capable hands under his arms, lifting him up.

oOo

"International Rescue from Thunderbird 1," Jeff hailed. He had just come up from his position under the cruise ship. Thunderbird 1 had held out beautifully, but the jets had finally gotten water in them, and if he hadn't come up, he would have gone down. Then Gordon would have had one more person to rescue, not to mention the very expensive advanced rescue craft. As it was, they had just managed to get the last of the people off the ship, which was now on it's way to Davy Jones' Locker. Unfortunately the submarine was being much more difficult. Gordon had been down there for hours trying to cut a hole to rescue them through. Alan was en route to the nearest shore to drop off his load of passengers. Jeff was going to have to follow. With the water in the jets, Thunderbird 1 was barely flying, and he didn't want the engines to stall while he was over the ocean. It would be a matter of at least half-hour to clear them, and he needed to land to do that.

"International Rescue," came the unexpected voice of his mother. Moments later her face appeared on the screen. "Hey, it works, neat—go ahead, son."

"Mom?" Jeff asked, startled. "What's going on? Where's Virgil?"

His mother's eyes shifted. "Are you saying that I can't take care of things here? Virgil's just taking a little rest, that's all."

She was lying. She had never been very good at duplicity at the best of times, but right now her face was stricken with worry. "What happened?" he demanded, horrified.

She sighed. "I could never lie to you, could I? Ok, fine. There's been a little…accident."

"What kind of accident?"

"Well…you know we're having a bit of a storm here."

"Yes," Jeff agreed, fighting the urge to snap at her to get on with it.

"Well, young Kyrano was out trying to bring things in, so they wouldn't blow away, you know…Well, he somehow fell into the pool."

"Is he ok?" Jeff asked, concerned. Kyrano was one of his dearest friends, and he cared about him almost as much as his sons.

"He's fine," Grandma said. "Virgil went out to rescue him."

"Virgil went outside in a wind storm?" Jeff demanded. "His injuries—"

"Not only that, he had to go into the pool after Kyrano. I guess he was trapped at the bottom."

"What happened?" Jeff asked, not liking where this was going at all.

"He got Kyrano out, but he fell and hurt himself," Grandma said. "I wasn't supposed to tell you, because now you'll worry."

"Mother!" Jeff snapped. "Of course you should tell me! How's Virgil now?"

He could tell his mother was still debating sugar-coating this. Finally she decided to come clean, though. She sighed. "He's in a bad way, Jeff. He fell right on his stomach, and I think it's torn something. He's semi-conscious, he's in a lot of pain, and he's bleeding."

"Oh, God," Jeff breathed, businesslike demeanor momentarily cracked.

"He needs a doctor, and soon," Grandma continued.

Jeff felt the jaws of fate snap shut on him. They couldn't leave here right now. Thunderbird 1 could barely fly. Even if he could get back to Tracy Island at all, it would be slow going. And they couldn't possibly take Thunderbird 2; it was needed for the rescue right here. Those people in the submarine were counting on them. The only alternative was to call in a medevac hovercopter, but as far out as Tracy Island was, the fastest 'copter would still take two hours to arrive, not to mention that it would compromise their secrecy. "How long does he have?" he asked.

"I…I don't know," his mother said, looking upset. "Kyrano said it looks really bad. Maybe an hour."

They couldn't get to him in an hour. His son was going to die. Jeff felt as helpless as he had when his sons were trapped in the collapsed subway tunnel. "I heard, Father, and I'm going to get him," Alan's voice suddenly announced over the comm.

"Thunderbird 2 is needed here," Jeff said automatically, hating himself for it.

"Father! We can't leave Virgil to die!" Alan exclaimed, sounding horrified. "Unless you can fly there, Thunderbird 2 is the only chance he has!"

"Son…Alan…I know how you feel. But you simply cannot leave in the middle of a rescue. Those people down there are counting on us." He hated what he was about to say. "Do you really think Virgil would want you to leave them?"

"You're right, father," Alan said, but his tone sounded anything but obedient. "Virgil would want us to stay here. He would give his life to save people. I would give my life to save people, too. We all would. But I will not give my brother's life! I'm sorry, Father, but you and Gordon will just have to manage without Thunderbird 2!" With that he signed off.

"Alan. Alan!" In the distance, Jeff could see the green bulk of Thunderbird 2 lift off from where it had just deposited its passengers, and streak off in the direction of Tracy Island. He couldn't really fault his son. If he had let his emotions guide him he would have done the exact same thing. But now it was up to a tiny submersible and a crippled rocket plane to save the people in the submarine, and he didn't see how they could do it. He just hoped Alan was going to be in time to save his brother.

oOo

Scott sat staring at the console, feeling like he had been gutted. He had heard the whole exchange. He never should have left! That thought was immediately followed by the more rational one, though: of course he should have left. If he hadn't, the people on the Saturn rocket wouldn't stand a chance. International Rescue saved lives. It was what they had been created for. He understood his father's position, as well. The logical thing to do was to complete the rescue. But Scott realized he would have done the exact same thing as Alan if he had been in his situation. Virgil's life was worth more than the lives of the people they were trying to rescue. He knew it was a selfish thought, but he couldn't help himself.

"Dammit, Virgil!" He banged his fist on the arm of the chair. He felt so helpless. This was worse than when they were trapped underground, and he hadn't thought that was possible. At least there, he had been able to talk to his brother, hold his hand, offer some comfort. Now, he couldn't do those things. He didn't know how bad he really was. And to top it all off, he was going to have to suffer up here for at least two days before Thunderbird 3 could return and take him back to Earth. And that was assuming there were no complications with the Saturn rescue.

He desperately wanted to call John and have him come and pick him up. But it was an irrational thought. The rocket was several hours out, now. By the time they could get back to Earth it would be too late to do anything to help Virgil. In fact, he shouldn't even tell them what was going on. They couldn't help, and it would only distract them from the rescue. They would be furious with him for not telling them, of course. But he would have to deal with that later.

He would have paced if he could have. The damned broken leg prevented that, so instead he drummed his fingers, reaching every few seconds for the button to contact Tracy Island and find out how Virgil was. But if there was anything to report, Grandma would let them know. Assuming she could figure out how to send an outgoing message. So he waited.

It was nearly forty-five minutes later—the longest minutes of Scott's life—when any news came in. "Mobile control and Thunderbird 5 from Thunderbird 2," Alan hailed.

"Go ahead, Alan," their father said just as Scott was reaching for the controls.

"I'm back on the island. We just loaded Virgil and I'm taking off now."

"How is he?" Scott asked, cutting off his father, who was trying to talk.

"Not good," Alan said grimly. "He's alive. But it's not good."

"You're going to rendezvous with Lady Penelope to take him to the hospital?" his father asked.

"No," Alan said, and Scott realized that he hadn't even thought about that. "I'm taking him directly to the hospital."

"But Alan—"

"No, Father! There's no time!"

This was really Alan's day for rebellion. "I think it'll be ok, Father," Scott chimed in, defending his brother's choice. "International Rescue is a logical choice to be called in to save the son of a billionaire, isn't it?"

"Well," his father said hesitantly, "I suppose. Yes, that should work. I—Jeff Tracy, son, no relation to International Rescue—called in because there wasn't time to call a hovercopter. You can even be honest with the doctor about the new injuries. Nothing too suspicious about falling. The weather and all that…" his voice petered out. As cold as his attitude often seemed, Scott was somewhat gratified to note that his father was just as worried about Virgil as the rest of them were.

"F.A.B., Father," Alan said. "I'll head back as soon as I get him to a hospital. I'm sorry about—"

"No apologies," his father said. "Come back when you can. We're handling things here."

"How is the rescue coming, Father?" Scott asked, wishing the cared about the answer to that.

"Gordon's almost through," his father reported. "As soon as he cuts a hole the trapped men can swim out. They have breathing gear. The pressure will be hard for them to take, but they'll be immediately going into Thunderbird 4, and there's a decompression chamber waiting for them on the mainland. I've cleared Thunderbird 1's jets. Also, the storm seems to be lessening, so the local rescue workers will be able to come back shortly."

"Glad to hear it," Scott said automatically. He had only been giving half an ear to his father, though. His mind was on Virgil. From his father's slightly distracted tone, he imagined that his was as well.

oOo

Jeff arrived at the hospital several hours later to face an irate thoracic surgeon. "I told you not to check him out from the hospital!" she spat by way of greeting.

Doctor Lowry had just gotten out of surgery (Virgil's surgery), and Jeff was trying to ignore the smudges of blood on her scrubs. "How is my son?" he asked, choosing to ignore her accusatory tone and words.

She cooled somewhat, noting his concern. "He will live. But it was a very close thing. His ribs—already broken ribs—were pushed into the abdominal cavity, causing a lot of internal damage. I was able to repair that, but he's going to be very sick for a very long time. I trust that you'll let me keep him here this time?"

Jeff decided not to go there right now. In truth, it was far too risky to have a long association with any one place, and he would have to check Virgil out as soon as he was able. "Can I see him?" he asked, avoiding the question.

"He had no business being out of bed," Doctor Lowry said, ignoring his question.

"I thought that the International Rescue people explained all that."

She rolled her eyes. "International Rescue mentioned something about helping the hired hand out of the pool," she allowed, giving him a searching look. He wasn't sure what to make of this doctor, and her attitude, which seemed just a half-beat off. Perhaps she was just very protective of her patients. But there had been something in her eyes when she said 'International Rescue' that he didn't like. This was a smart one. He would have to get Virgil out of here as soon as possible.

When Alan had dropped Virgil off he had explained to them what had happened, with the storm, the pool, and Kyrano. As they had hoped, it didn't raise any particular suspicions, except apparently with Doctor Lowry. But unfortunately, it meant that Alan couldn't visit his brother in the hospital, now that they had all seen his face in connection with International Rescue. The youngest Tracy was now holding down the command center, allowing Grandma and Kyrano to come to the hospital.

They were all here now: Jeff, Gordon, Mother, Kyrano, and even Lady Penelope and Parker. "I am so sorry, Mister Tracy," Kyrano said for at least the tenth time.

"Kyrano, it wasn't your fault," Jeff said. Again. He had been reassuring the distraught man since he had arrived. "You didn't do anything wrong. I'm just glad you're ok."

Kyrano gave him a pleased look at that, but it was still tinged with guilt. He was going to feel badly about this no matter what anyone said. "Thank you," he said.

"Doctor, can I see my son?" Jeff asked again.

She sighed, relenting. "Yes. Only you for now, though. He's still anesthetized and in recovery. I shouldn't even let you in there. You can only stay a few minutes."

He thanked her and followed her into the recovery room, giving an apologetic glance over his shoulder to Gordon and Mother, whom no doubt wanted to see Virgil as badly as he did. When he saw his son, though, he was just as glad that his mother couldn't see him. Her heart probably wouldn't be able to take it.

Virgil looked terrible. Jeff had to touch his face, reassure himself that his son still lived. He was ashen, eyelashes standing out starkly against a face as white as death and eyelids almost translucent. Jeff sat at his son's side and gently gripped his hand, being careful not to disturb the IV line. "I'm sorry, son," he said. "Sorry I couldn't be there for you." He heard the doctor quietly leave, giving him privacy. "Hang in there, Son," he said, pressing Virgil's cold fingers against his lips in a fatherly kiss. "Just hang in there."